


Unexpected but Welcomed

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Series: The Lighter Path [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bullying, GFY, Gen, Happy Ending, Qui-Gon Jinn collects Padawans, Qui-Gon isn't an ass this time 'round, TLP au, Xanatos is a cat and does NOT like mud, Yoda need to pay better attentions to the younglings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What started as a mindless stroll through the Temple halls becomes something far more important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected but Welcomed

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Look what I finally updated!  
> This isn't actually what I had planned on posting next, and I actually have a 'proper' part three still in the works, but it is being slow and uncooperative. So lets call this part 2.5. I do apologize for the current lack of a stable chronological order/timeline, but I promise, the next part will be moving forwards with the story!
> 
> This takes place shortly before A New Path.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Backstory 2/3 - Obi-Wan

**[45 BBY]**

 

Qui-Gon Jinn walked the halls of the Jedi Temple at a far slower, easier pace than his usual, purposeful stride. It had been over a month since he had last found himself back in the Temple, and he was in no rush to be anywhere. His last mission had been successful, and it did not appear that the Council would be sending him back out into the wilds of space in the near future. And so it seemed he would be Temple-bound, at least until he annoyed the Council enough to be tossed out into the nearest transport.  
  
The tall Master chuckled softly at the thought, before nodding a greeting to a passing group of Knights, all chatting happily. They all chimed back a greeting of their own. It made him smile, their youthful energy and cheer.  
  
They sent his thoughts drifting back to Xanatos. His former Padawan had been knighted for almost a year, and was well on his way to making a good name for himself. Much to his displeasure, Qui-Gon had not seen the young man in a few months―an unfortunate side-effect of being on active field duty meant one’s schedule was never certain and Never what it first appeared. A few days ago, when he had visited his eldest former-Padawan, Feemor had mentioned that Xanatos was currently somewhere around Gelgelar, on an undercover mission. Qui-Gon’s eyebrows had risen nearly to his hairline at that. Xanatos got along with swamps about as well as a Loth-cat did―not at all. Feemor had laughed at his expression, and revealed that he had been witness to Xanatos complaining about the assignment from the moment he received it, all the way until Feemor had lost sight of him as his transport door closed.  
  
Force, but Qui-Gon was proud of the boy. Although, he reminded himself not for the first time, Xanatos was not a boy anymore. He was a young man and a Knight of the Jedi Order, and Qui-Gon was humbled that he could claim any responsibility for the bright young life. He had known from the beginning that Xanatos would be an amazing Jedi Knight, and had not been proven wrong.  
  
And yet, so many months later, Qui-Gon found he was still unused to being _alone_ so often. Though he had never wanted for company, and he did not mind periods of solitude, it was strange, to be without a Padawan. He had taken on Feemor when Qui-Gon was still a young Knight, and Xanatos shortly after Feemor’s Knighting. Now, without an active training bond for the first time in almost two decades, Qui-Gon found himself at somewhat of a loss as to what to do with himself.  
  
‘Tch, stop it. You are becoming a melancholy old man,’ he thought, knowing neither of his former Padawans would ever let him hear the end of it, were they to learn of Qui-Gon’s brooding. ‘If you miss it so much, go to crèche, take on another youngling.’  
  
To his surprise, that thought was met with a chime in the Force, a sense of _Rightness_ that was tinged with an odd urgency that he could feel in his bones. Qui-Gon stopped, mid-step, blinking in surprise at the sensation, but then quickly as it had started, it was gone. Frowning, Qui-Gon reached out into the Force around him, but came up against nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to explain what had just happened. Still frowning, he slid his hands into his sleeves and began to walk once again, making a note to meditate on the feeling that evening.  
  
So caught up in his thoughts was he, as he continued his stroll through the halls, that Qui-Gon almost missed it. He stopped and cocked his head, brow furrowing.  
  
There is was again.  
  
Cruel, mocking laughter, coming from somewhere further down the corridor that branched off to Qui-Gon’s left. Smoothing away his frown and calling upon his ‘Scary Master Mask’, as Tahl had once jokingly called it, Qui-Gon turned moving swiftly towards the source of the laughter. As he walked, he reached out in the Force, and eventually coming across four presences.  
  
His concern deepened; three of the presences were sparking with the cruel joy of a torment, and the fourth-  
  
Rounding another corner, Qui-Gon came across the scene itself. They were in a deserted cross corridor, not too far from the Star Map room. Across from him, Qui-Gon could see the three boys crowding around a corner. Around someone, the Master realized, and had to restrain a scowl.  
  
They were all Initiates, he noticed, as he stepped closer, all missing the tell-tale Padawan’s braid. None of the boys noticed Qui-Gon’s approach.  
  
The Master’s concern was rapidly morphing to anger, and it took him a moment to release the growing negativity into the Force as he heard the words the middle boy with silver-blond hair was spitting out at his victim.  
  
“Come on, Oafy-Wan, stop crying. No one’s gonna want to train a Padawan who’s always crying. Or who’s always falling over his own feet like you.”  
  
That was met by jeers from the head tormentor’s companions, and Qui-Gon gave in to the dark scowl trying to make its home on his face.  
  
“You should just give up now, you little failure,” The middle boy sneered, “Do us all a favor.” Closer now, Qui-Gon could see him kick the boy they had cornered. He had clearly been shoved against the wall, and didn’t make a noise when the first boy’s boot connected with his ribs, barely flinched. But Qui-Gon could feel the flare of pain in the Force, and sharp stab of anguish that quickly melted into acceptance, as the boy took his tormentor’s words as truth.  
  
That was more than Qui-Gon’s temper could handle.  
  
“What in the Force is going on here?” He demanded, pulling himself up to his full, impressive, height, and pouring the full force of an angry Jedi Master into his voice. The three boys spun around, all the blood draining from their faces in utter terror, as they realized that they have been caught.  
  
“I-I…uh…we…” the ringleader stuttered, staring up at Qui-Gon with wide, panicked eyes. Qui-Gon loomed over the three like a Force Storm, staring at them and methodically memorizing their faces.  
  
“What are you names?” he demanded, watching all three Initiates swallow hard.  
  
“B-Bruck Chun.”  
  
“Aalto R-Rintar.”  
  
“J-Jayln Hul”  
  
“All of you are to return to the crèche immediately. You will tell the Crèche-Masters exactly what you have done, and then you will meditate on why exactly your actions are so horrendously inappropriate while you wait for whatever punishment is deemed suitable, and you will _pray_ ,” Qui-Gon took a step closer, and felt only the slightly hint of perverse pleasure when all three boys shrunk back, “That you will be granted permission to remain here in this Temple. Do you understand?”  
  
A triple chorus of “Yes Master Jinn!” and they were gone like there was a Sith at their heels. Qui-Gon watched them go, maintaining the air of truly furious Master until the sounds of their footsteps faded fully away. Then he turned, dropping to one knee in front of the remaining Initiate.  
  
The child had uncurled slightly, and was sitting on the floor, back still pushed up against the wall, knees pulled to his chest and staring at Qui-Gon with wide, shifting blue-green eyes. Qui-Gon looked him up and down, searching for any signs of serious injury, and finding none. A weight he had not noticed lifted from his chest at that realization.  
  
“Are you alright, Young One?”  
  
The boy nodded, “Y-Yes. Thank you, Master Jinn.”  
  
Frowning slightly, Qui-Gon sat down all the way, crossing his legs. The acceptance he had felt from the boy, at Initiate Chun’s words still nagged at his thoughts.  
  
“May I ask you your name?” he asked, careful to keep his voice soft. It would not do to have the child thinking he was in trouble.  
  
The boy blinked a few times, and then, realizing Qui-Gon actually expected a response, said, “Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sir.”  
  
Qui-Gon nodded. “I am Qui-Gon Jinn.” He bowed his head to the Initiate, who stared for a moment, and then mimicked the movement.  
  
“Obi-Wan, does this sort of thing happen often?” he asked, softly, after a moment of silence.  
  
Obi-Wan took time to respond, chewing on his lip before nodding quickly. Qui-Gon had to clamp down fiercely on the surge of anger that bubbled up in his chest as the child dropped his eyes and hunched in on himself. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper.  
  
“Yes, Sir. Normally it’s just words. I’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding Bruck when I’m alone, but sometimes…” he trailed off, swallowed, and continued, “Bant and Garen had classes, and Reeft’s off planet with his Master, and no one ever comes to the Star Map at this time, and I didn’t hear-“  
  
He was fighting tears, his voice shaking, and Qui-Gon felt his heart crack in his chest. Carefully, he reached out and pulled Obi-Wan gently into his arms. The boy went stiff, radiating shock.  
  
“It’s alright,” Qui-Gon murmured, stroking Obi-Wan’s auburn hair, “It’s alright. You’re safe now.”  
  
The body in his arms shuddered, and then Obi-Wan went limp and began to cry softly into the fabric of Qui-Gon’s robes. Qui-Gon held him, stroking his hair and murmuring soft, comforting words, all the while, silently drafting every word of the rant he would be delivering to the Council and Crèche Masters. How in the Force had something like this been allowed to continue?! The child in his arms was a point of brilliant, warm, white light in the Force, but fear and belief of false failures had allowed for it to be covered by a faint shadow. Unacceptable. Qui-Gon scowled at the wall. Yoda was in the crèche more often than not these days; how had he not noticed this?!  
  
‘Perhaps he did,’ a tiny, niggling voice in the back of his mind whispered, “Perhaps-“  
  
Qui-Gon shoved the voice away, and returned his attention to Obi-Wan.  
  
Eventually, Obi-Wan’s tears began to slow to a soft sniffling. Still rocking and stroking his hair, Qui-Gon finally found the words to ask what had continued to bother him, even more than the bullying itself.  
  
“You know that what Bruck said is not true, don’t you, Young One?” he asked softly. In his arms, Obi-Wan went still, and then he was shaking his head and Qui-Gon felt his heart break all over again.  
  
“But it is,” the child whispered, and Force but he sounded so resigned. “I’m already twelve, and no Master has even looked my way. I’m clumsy, and I’m not good at the First Form, and I keep getting in trouble for fighting, but if I don’t fight back-“his voice rose, panicked and shrill, and Qui-Gon resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Had his Grand-Master turned blind and Force-null in Qui-Gon’s absence?!  
  
“Shh, shh, it’s alright, Obi-Wan. There is no shame in fighting in self defense,” Qui-Gon soothed, “and let me tell you a secret. When I was your age, I was bruised more often than I wasn’t, due to my own clumsiness. My body was growing too quickly for my brain to keep up,” he gestured with one hand towards his legs, “And my Master despaired of me even performing a single kata cleanly.”  
  
Obi-Wan stared up at him, eyes wide and damp. “Really?”  
  
Qui-Gon nodded. “Really.” He caught Obi-Wan’s chin with his hand and gently tipped it up. “I foresee you will be a great Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, no matter what a dung-headed nerf-herder like Bruck Chun says.”  
  
Obi-Wan’s eyes grew even wider, and he laughed softly despite his shock at the Master’s words. However, Qui-Gon barely heard the sound. As soon as he had said the words, his attention had been caught by the Force, ringing joyfully through his mind in a deafening chant of _Right, Right, Right_.  
  
“Oh.” Qui-Gon blinked, understanding washing over him, and looked down to see Obi-Wan still staring back up at him, concern and confusion filling his young face. Yes, he could feel it now, the _Rightness_ the Force sang of.  
  
“In fact,” Qui-Gon began slowly, choosing his words carefully. He did not want his offer to be taken as one of pity or charity. Nothing could be further from the truth. “My last Padawan was Knighted last year, and I find myself unable to shake the feeling that there should be someone in his old room.”  
  
He heard Obi-Wan suck in a shocked breath, and went on. “I do not ask this lightly, nor do I make this offer out of pity, Initiate Kenobi, and you are fully within your rights to refuse me, but I believe I have found the person who ought to fill them.” He sucked in a breath of his own. It was now or never. He suddenly felt both terrified and exceptionally calm. “Would you become my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”  
  
He had barely finished speaking when Obi-Wan was hugging him tight. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Thank you! Thank you!!” His uninhibited joy made the Force around them sing, and it took Qui-Gon’s breath away. Then Obi-Wan stopped, and the beginnings of a blush spread across his cheeks. He pulled away, schooling his features into something smoother. “Uh, I mean…Thank you, Master Jinn. You honour me with your request.”  
  
Qui-Gon huffed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, before pulling the boy back into a hug. “It’s alright. This is meant to be a joyous occasion. Live in the moment. Feel this moment, and all its emotions, Padawan mine.” The title rolled off his tongue as if it had always been there, waiting for this moment.  
  
Obi-Wan hugged him tightly. “Yes, Master,” he whispered, “Thank you.” Around them, the Force rejoiced.


End file.
